


They Got Lost

by AceyEnn



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: (but also the band a little), Alternate Universe - Human, Drinking, F/F, Mindless self indulgence (the concept not the band), Second person POV, Slow-burn because they’re both dumbasses who can’t spit it out, The Road Trip AU (TM), They Might Be Giants (the band not the movie), Tourist Traps, Useless Lesbians, Weed, idiots to lovers, it gets horny folks, the plot is that they have a car and they are lesbians, they fuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:00:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27266839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceyEnn/pseuds/AceyEnn
Summary: (Or: The Car Lesbians AU)After finishing college, Amethyst drags Pearl on a road trip across America. No ulterior motives whatsoever. Nope. Definitely not.
Relationships: Amethyst/Pearl (Steven Universe), Jasper/Lapis Lazuli (Steven Universe), Past Amethyst/Peridot, Past Greg Universe/Rose Quartz, Past Pearl/Rose Quartz
Comments: 22
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I AM FINALLY PUBLISHING THIS YAYYY
> 
> Chapters are gonna alternate between Pearl’s perspective and Amethyst’s. Odd numbered chapters are Pearl, even numbered are Amethyst. Got it? Good.
> 
> I have a bit of a buffer chapters-wise, but I don’t really have a planned schedule. I’ll try to update it semi-often though!

Your name is Pearl Finnegan, and as usual, you cannot sleep. You've more or less given up on trying, and with a small sigh you get out of bed and pad on over to your desk as quietly as humanly possible, so as not to wake your eldest sister. (God knows you love Val--really, you do--but you absolutely  _ hate  _ sharing a room with her.)

You glance at the clock on your laptop. 3:20 AM.  _ Ugh. _ It's definitely not worth trying to get back to sleep, so you resign yourself to hoping  _ someone  _ is on Discord.

No one is. You would scream if you had less self-restraint.

As you scroll mindlessly through Facebook, not really taking any of it in, you hear a pounding on your bedroom window. Rubbing your eyes, you stand and open the window, cringing as the accursed thing squeaks.

“Amethyst, what are you  _ doing  _ here?” you hiss-- _ quietly _ , unlike  _ certain other people _ in your friend group.

“You weren't responding to my texts, P! And I gotta talk to you, like,  _ yesterday. _ ”

“I was trying to  _ sleep. _ ”

You can barely make out her face, but you can just  _ tell  _ she's rolling her eyes.

“First off, Pearl,” Amethyst begins, “I am pretty sure you're a vampire, because I've known you since middle school and I am fairly sure that I've never once seen you sleep--”

“I'm not a  _ vampire. _ ”

“Shh. Shut up. Lemme finish.  _ Anyway _ , you also have continually bitched about how much you hate your parents, and I have a fuckin’  _ great  _ plan that will definitely piss them off and make you think you're actually cool or something. So like...get your scrawny ass out here so we can actually talk.” She hops down from her perch--the limb of the large, sturdy oak tree in your back yard.

You groan, but comply, worming your way out the window and onto the branch Amethyst just vacated. You've snuck out for less, after all.

“So basically,” says Amethyst as you make your way to the ground, “You know that road trip I said I'd go on if I managed to finish college?”

“Vaguely?” you reply. She'd mentioned it a handful of times in the last four years, but you frankly hadn't paid much mind to the idea. It wasn't relevant to you.

“Well, I managed to finish college. You know that, you were  _ there,  _ Miss Still Salty She Lost The Spot Of Valedictorian To Peridot.”

“...Your point?”

“I'm  _ asking _ ,” Amethyst groans, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, “if you'll come with me.”

_ What? _ “What?”

“Okay, Pearl, hear me out. Garnet is in England for the summer. Peridot went back home to Canada. I like Bismuth, but I don't know her well enough, it'd be weird. Greg’s busy being a dad and doing dad shit. Jasper and Lapis are...Jasper and Lapis.” She grabs your hand and looks into your eyes, faux-serious. “Help me, Pearl Finnegan, you're my only hope.”

You blink, and decide to change the subject. “Star Wars? You’ve really been hanging out with Peridot too much.”

“No,  _ you’ve  _ been hanging out with Peridot too  _ little.  _ And that's beside the point anyway. Yes or no, P. Yes? Or no?”

You weigh your options. On a purely rational level, you object to Amethyst’s idea. It's stupid, and the idea of being stuck with her for who knows how long…

It's not even that you don't like her. In fact, it's the exact opposite. Amethyst is pretty and funny and caring, and you would absolutely be lying if her idea didn't stir things in you, things that you're not sure any of your other friends would stir. 

You decide to ignore that part of you. 

Really, though, it's an exciting idea. You  _ do  _ hate your parents--so stifling, so  _ controlling _ . You truly would love to get away. But  _ should  _ you? That's a whole different story.

“Pearl, you're staring.”

“Oh, uh, sorry.” You frown. “I don't know…”

“Isn't your birthday coming up?”

“Uh...on the 23rd, yes.”

“Then look at it this way. Would you rather spend your birthday with your garbage family, or with someone you don't hate?”

She has a point, and you hate it.

“When are you leaving?” you ask.

“Uh, Friday.”

“Day after tomorrow? This is--Amethyst, that's  _ incredibly  _ short notice!”

“Well, I  _ was  _ planning to go alone, right? But like, I decided I didn't want to. And you are, as I said, my only fucking option.” She pauses. “And technically it's already Thursday morning.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “I'll ask my parents if I can.”

“And if they say no?”

You can't help but smile. “Then I'm an adult,” you reply, “and I can do what I want.”

“Wow, I thought I'd have to spend the next day twisting your arm instead of actually packing.  _ Nice. _ ”

“I mean, I didn't have any real plans for the summer. I’m starting grad school at some point, but I was planning on taking a gap year, so…”

“Grad school? Nerd.”

“I can still back out if you're just going to mock my choices, Amethyst.” You cross your arms, leaning against the tree. “But I do like the idea more than I probably should.”

“Aw  _ yes _ . Amethyst one, common sense zero!”

“Don't gloat too much.” You smirk. “I reserve the right to change my mind.”

But you don't change your mind, and that's how, on Friday morning, you end up--after a screaming match with your parents--in a filthy white Nissan with Amethyst Diaz, on your way to God knows where. 

“I heard the screaming,” Amethyst comments as you get in her car.

“Would've been hard not to,” you mutter. “Let's go before they decide to come out.”

“Wow, your parents are gay too?”

“Shut up.”

\---

A few miles into the drive, Amethyst realizes that she needs to stop for gas. She pulls over to the nearest gas station, mercifully close.

“So you never actually told me where we're going,” you point out as she pumps the gas.

“That would be because we're not going anywhere specific. It's about the  _ journey _ , P.” Amethyst waves her free arm in an expansive gesture. “Amethyst And Pearl Do America.”

Huh. You don't know what you expected, really.

As Amethyst finishes filling the tank and swiping her card, you decide to go into the mini-mart for a drink. “Would you like anything from there?” you ask her.

“Uh, I've really been digging those shitty blueberry muffins. And if they have those green apple Rockstars, one of those. If not, Monster.”

“Alright.” You cringe internally at Amethyst’s taste in beverages, but swallow it down. This is neither the time nor the place. You cannot sabotage this.

You end up getting a lemon iced tea for yourself, along with the muffin and Amethyst’s second pick of drink, having discovered that they don't seem to have the green apple thing in stock. Upon consideration, you get a pack of cigarettes as well. The clerk doesn't bother to card you--you're old enough, but you do question his commitment to relative safety. (Not that  _ you've  _ always followed those laws, but you also were never in a position where you were  _ selling. _ )

Amethyst has climbed back into the driver's seat when you return to the car. “They didn't have the drink you wanted,” you explain. “But I got you a Monster. Is it alright if I stop for a smoke before we leave?”

“Sure. I'll join ya.” She pauses, then adds, “But like, not right by the gas tank.”

“Absolutely not.”

She drives the car around to the mini-mart's parking lot, before exiting to sit on the curb and light up. “Sorry we had to stop so early. Feelin’ pretty dumb.”

“Trust me, it's fine. I needed this cigarette,” you admit. “My parents were just about ready to kill me, and I'm still a bit on edge.”

“Do not blame you at all. They're nutjobs.” She shakes her head. “I mean, my dad ain't about to win father of the year either, but at least he's kinda  _ trying _ to be good. Yours just don't care.”

“No, that's not the issue. They care too much. Just...not about the right things.”

“Same diff. At least in practice.” Amethyst unwraps her muffin and takes a big bite. “Either way, they can't exactly come after you. We're gonna be far away before long.”

“Exactly.” You take a drag. “And soon enough I won't have to live with them anymore. Garnet and I are thinking of getting an apartment together when she's back from England.”

“Sounds bitchin’. Where?”

“Probably not too far from the college. Crystal Springs is a nice town, and that way I won't have to go far for grad school when I go.”

“I've been thinking the same area,” Amethyst agrees. “Not going back to school, though. Like, ever. It's a goddamn miracle I graduated at all, much less in four years. I mean…”

She trails off, but you know what she was about to say.  _ Even you couldn't do that. _

“There were...extenuating circumstances,” you sigh. “And it was just a year off. My advisors knew about it, and approved it.”

“Shit, sorry. Didn't mean to hit a nerve.” 

“No, no. It's fine.” It's not really  _ fine _ , but to be fair, Amethyst wasn't trying to hurt you, and you know it.

\---

_ You spent most of what should've been your sophomore year crashing in what was, technically, not your own dorm room. Garnet and Amethyst had taken pity on you, and managed to get a dorm together that year and let you secretly crash with them--even though strictly speaking, you shouldn't have been living on campus.  _

_ Rose was gone.  _ Dead _. You'd begged off the year, knowing full well you'd be unable to process a single bit of information in your classes, unable to complete a single assignment to anyone’s satisfaction. _

_ (Your parents, needless to say, were not pleased.) _

_ And so you just lay on the air mattress your friends had set up for you, staring at the ceiling. _

_ It was 11 AM sharp, according to your phone, when Amethyst barged in with a bottle of some cheap flavored vodka and a ziplock bag of what you could only assume was marijuana. “What is  _ up _ , my main bitch?” she shouted. _

_ “Amethyst, first of all,  _ please  _ do not call me that. Secondly, you  _ know  _ what's up.” _

_ “Yeah, I can tell. You're moping again. That's why  _ I’m  _ here.” _

_ “I'm not moping, I'm  _ grieving. _ ” _

_ “Wow, funny how that looks completely identical to moping on you.” _

_ “Shut up.” _

_ “ _ Anyway _ , I'm ditching today, because you need to be cheered the  _ fuck  _ up. Check it--I got cotton candy vodka and a whole ounce of weed.” Amethyst grinned as she sat down on the mattress next to you, causing it to shake. _

_ “I hate flavored vodka and you know it.” _

_ “Shit. I forgot.” _

_ “Did you really?” _

_ “Uh,  _ yes _ , actually.” Amethyst rolled her eyes. “Not everything I do is a personal attack on you, y'know.” _

_ “Ugh.” _

_ “Look, Pearl. We are going to have a fun day in, and you are going to have a good time and stop being such a bitchy little sad sack for a few hours. It's either that or you leave the dorm and stop complaining.” _

_ “So I don't have a choice. As usual.” _

_ “You don't. Not this time.” _

_ Amethyst reached under the bunk bed and pulled out a small pipe, made of glittery purple glass, and a grinder. “And before you say any sanctimonious garbage about how we're not supposed to smoke weed in the dorms, you're not even supposed to be living here, so can it in advance.” _

_ “I wasn't going to.” _

_ “You weren't going to  _ this  _ time, you mean.” _

_ “Fine. Yes. That's  _ exactly  _ what I meant. Well-done.” _

_ Amethyst shrugged, and began grinding a bud up. “It's a good strain,” she noted. “Hybrid. Pretty good THC level.” _

_ “None of these words mean anything to me.” _

_ “Cool, no one cares.” She packed the bowl and lit up, taking a deep hit. Too deep--you thought she was about to hack up a lung. As she caught her breath, she handed the bowl over to you. _

_ You weren't sure if you were in the mood or not. However, you were well aware that Amethyst wasn't about to go get high elsewhere, and that this was  _ technically  _ her dorm room anyway, and that you had nothing better to do. Maybe she had a point about you moping, not that you were at all willing to admit it. _

_ With a heavy sigh, you groaned, “Hand me the lighter,” and she complied.  _

_ It had been a while since you'd done anything psychoactive. Not since Rose. Well, unless alcohol counted. That, you'd been almost reliant on lately--anything to help you sleep at night, to drown out the constant screaming in your brain. You probably had a problem and you knew it, but you simply could not care less. _

_ Regardless, this meant that it didn't take long for the weed to hit, and hard. _

\---

“You ready, P?” Amethyst asks, stomping out her cigarette. 

“Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Hella.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> music debates good god

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life is stressful so here's more of this. I hope y'all dig it!

Your name is Amethyst Diaz, and you really hope you haven't made an awful mistake.

“Wanna play some music?” you ask Pearl as you pull out of the gas station parking lot. “I saw you brought that big-ass CD wallet.”

“Oh! Yes, I'd love that.” She pulls the case from under her seat and begins rifling through it. You glance over, and can't help but notice that her massive collection seems to be sorted alphabetically by artist. _Nerd._

“Aha!” she exclaims triumphantly, pulling a disc from its spot and putting it in the player, and holy _fuck,_ she's cute, really cute, _kissable_ , and you should _really_ be focusing on the road right now.

_“I got handed an Ayn Rand sandwich…”_

“I love this song!” Pearl exclaims, and she begins to sing along. Fuck. How are you supposed to do anything when she's being so _attractive_? It's just not fair.

Your destination for the night is whatever town you happen to end up in, and there's no rush to get there. So you just drive, and try to focus on the road instead of Pearl passionately singing along to some weird song about communism in the passenger’s seat. Emphasis on _try_ , but you don't crash. You don't crash when the song turns and Pearl begins chattering about the album, either, and you will give yourself a fair bit of credit for this, because she is _distracting._

“This is their twenty-first album, My Murdered Remains,” she explains. “Their second of 2018…although their third that year was released the same day, so theoretically you _could_ consider this their twenty-second, but I digress. There's a fair bit of debate as to whether it's an album or a compilation, though--Peridot and I got into an argument about it. I had to text Greg to ask in order to prove my point.” She laughs. “It's good, regardless.” 

“I understood maybe three words of that.”

“You really need to expand your musical horizons. It's fine. I'm happy to help.”

Okay, the condescension is less hot.

\---

_It was weird, seeing Pearl so listless. Even when she'd been sad before, which was admittedly fairly often, she had at least had some_ spark _to her, and could at least be cheered up a bit._

_It made sense, of course. You were just as heartbroken about Rose as she was. Okay, maybe not_ as _fucked up over it as Pearl, but it would be a big fat lie to say that you were at all okay. Not just because Rose was dead, either. The circumstances leading up to it were almost as bad, and you were pretty sure that was another part of why Pearl was so_ broken _over the whole thing._

_You didn't know what to do, not really. But you were always good at distracting your friends in their times of need, and dammit, you had every intention of distracting Pearl._

_It seemed to be working, at least a bit. The weed had clearly kicked in fast for her, and she was sprawled across the bottom bunk now, where Garnet usually slept, with half-lidded eyes and a vague smile on her face. At least she wasn't actively weeping or screaming at you. You'd take it. (You did feel pretty bad about the booze, but realistically, you knew it was probably best not to give Pearl alcohol right now anyway.)_

_The weed was starting to kick in for you, too. It really was good stuff. You were hungry, though, and felt deeply stupid for not getting snacks._

_“Let's get some snacks,” you suggested. “You're comin’ with, I'm not leaving you here alone today.”_

_“Do I really have to?”_

_“Yes.”_

_Pearl practically rolled off the bed, landing between the bunk bed and the air mattress, letting out an extremely stoned giggle when it hit her a few moments later that she was lying flat on the ground in a crevice so tiny that no one but her would be able to fit into it. If you had to compare her to anything, it would be a single piece of uncooked angel hair--long, skinny, brittle._

_You would've been lying if you said you didn't worry about Pearl on damn near every possible level, especially ever since Rose died. She'd always been a tad melancholy, and painfully thin, and she had the social skills of a particularly awkward soap dish, but something in her had_ broken _when Rose passed, and everyone could see it. You were never the most perceptive person, sure, but even_ you _could tell something was deeply wrong. It was weird having to play babysitter for_ Pearl _of all people, but there you were, forced by circumstance to do just that._

_You stood and helped Pearl to her feet. “Okay. Snack time.” She nodded, and you left, leading her by the hand._

_God, but you were so glad your dorm had an elevator. You didn't trust either of you to not fall down all those stairs in this state. Given how Pearl was clinging to the side of the elevator as if she thought she'd fall to her death otherwise, you were fairly sure you'd made a sound choice._

_The nearest 7-Eleven was a mere two blocks from your dorm, and it was down a mercifully flat road. You still took your sweet time walking there, though, and Pearl still managed to nearly trip over a crack in the sidewalk. You steadied her, and walked on._

_“Okay,” you said. “Munchie time. Pick out a few things if you want. Just not too much, obvs. Money is unfortunately still a thing.”_

_“Unfortunately,” she laughed, stumbling over to the cooler to look at drinks._

\---

Hours pass, shockingly uneventfully. You switch drivers at a rest stop, and insist on forcing your own music taste on Pearl as she drives, your revenge for her weird alternative rock crimes.

“So, since you wouldn't shut up about There May Be Giants or whatever--”

“They Might Be Giants,” she corrects.

“ _Or whatever,_ ” you continue. “This? _This_ is a classic.” You shove your CD into the player, perhaps a bit more roughly than is at all necessary. 

“Um, what exactly _is_ it?” Pearl asks, frowning.

“You'll Rebel To Anything by Mindless Self Indulgence. It's good. It was, like, the soundtrack to middle school for me.”

After a few moments of listening to the music, brow furrowed in what you can only assume is vague annoyance, Pearl says, “Okay, that checks out.”

“Look, P, if _I_ have to tolerate your weird taste in music, you have to deal with mine. It's the law of equivalent exchange or whatever.”

“Did I object?”

“You were thinkin’ it. It was all over your face.”

“Amethyst," she groans, "shut up and let me drive. I can't focus if you're needling me."

"Alright, _sheesh._ "

\---

You decide to stop in a small beach town for the night. It's so similar to your own hometown in nearly every way, and yet it feels completely different--like a funhouse mirror version of Beach City, really. 

There's a cheap, shitty motel with rooms available, so you decide to sleep there. Pearl accompanies you into the lobby, where an older woman sits at the desk, reading some godawful romance novel. She doesn't seem to notice either of you standing there until you finally ring the bell.

“How may I help you?” the clerk asks.

“Uh, we wanna get a room for the night.”

“Any preference on beds?”

“Whatever's available. I just wanna _sleep._ ”

Your room winds up being on the first floor, just a few doors down from where you parked. Two beds, which you're a bit disappointed with, but at least you won't be sleeping in your car.

You set your suitcase down on the bed closer to the door to claim it, and then open it to pull out two bottles--some whipped cream vodka and a bottle of Bushmills. “Well, we ain't driving again till morning. Let's celebrate.”

“You remembered my favorite,” Pearl replies, sounding genuinely touched.

“I mostly just remembered that you hate the sweet stuff,” you say with a shrug. “And that you like whiskey. It was what I could find.” It’s almost not a lie. You did remember, but you would've gone with any whiskey they had, in all honesty, and just hoped she'd like it.

“Well, I appreciate it.” 

You head over to the vanity and grab the two flimsy plastic cups left there by the motel staff, filling one with Pearl’s whiskey and the other with your sweet vodka. “A toast,” you say as Pearl accepts her cup. “To graduating!”

“To graduating!” You clink your cups together, silly as it is, and you begin to drink.

\---

You're three drinks in, and definitely feeling it now. Not too hard, though. You're only _kinda_ drunk.

Pearl, on the other hand, has gone right past “tipsy,” right past “drunk,” right into “absolutely smashed off her next-to-nonexistent tits.” It's not that you've never seen her drunk, because you've seen her drunk more times than you can count. It's just that you haven't been alone with her while drunk since your freshman year of college, and that was a weird, dark time for everyone.

Pearl is draped across her bed, legs dangling off the far side, looking a bit sleepy. “This is nice,” she comments, not for the first time, and you laugh.

“You've said that, like, fifty times now. But yeah, it is.”

She laughs back, and rolls over onto her back, gesturing you over to her bed. You join her, moving slowly so as not to fall over--not that it keeps you from losing your balance and landing right atop her torso.

“Oof. Sorry.” You roll off her.

“It's fine.” 

You notice, as you lie next to Pearl, that her hands are fiddling with your hair. “It's soft,” she comments. 

“Thanks. I go through, like... _so_ much conditioner.”

“Could you turn your head?”

“Uh, sure.”

She separates your hair into three chunks, and begins to braid it--clumsily, given how far gone she is. Slow, so slow and gentle. Tingles run from your skull down your spine. Here you are, drunk in a motel room so far from home, getting your hair braided by your crush, who is even drunker than you. It's not a situation you would've ever seen yourself in just a few short years ago.

Her hand brushes against the back of your neck. They're rougher than they look--far rougher than yours, which are mostly smooth, save for the ever-present callus on your thumb from flicking your lighter. It's interesting, surprising, but it makes sense, given her hobbies. She always did like working with her hands, always had to be doing something to keep them busy. That's probably why she's doing your hair, really. She can't possibly feel the same way about you that you do about her. She doesn't mean anything by it. 

But it's nice to pretend.

\---

**Welcome to the beginning of the FUCK ME PEARLS HOT group.**

**pussy destroyer**

see title of group pls

**garnet.**

oh my god.

**lapissed**

ahahahahahaaa

**PERIDOT IS COOL**

AMETHYST, HOLY SHIT??

**pussy destroyer**

LOOK IN MY DEFENSE 

see title

grass is green pearl is hot 

these r just facts

**none of your bismuth**

i mean. i'm not arguing with you on that tbh

**pussy destroyer**

see busmuth gets it 

*bismutt

*b i s m u t h

fuck

**lapissed**

wow great job ame

**pussy destroyer**

stfu the fuck up

anyway uhhhh were drunk at a motel and

**garnet.**

so you left then.

and she actually came with you.

hm.

**pussy destroyer**

fgarnet pls im tryin 2 explain u a thing

**Guitar Dad!**

wow, i leave for half an hour to put the kid to bed and come back to a new group chat??

**lapissed**

welcome to hell greg

amethyst has a crush and is as always being real weird about it

**pussy destroyer**

im being cyberbullied smh

anyway yeah she strated braiding my hair??

and

it was

rly nice??

im gay???

**garnet.**

we're aware.

**PERIDOT IS COOL**

DID YOU EVER CONSIDER JUST...ASKING HER OUT LIKE A NORMAL FUCKING PERSON?

**pussy destroyer**

yeah i comsidered that but like

no

that would require me 2 actually tell her how i feel and like FUCK am i goin down THAT road

**PERIDOT IS COOL**

AMETHYST YOU USELESS LESBIAN 

**lapissed**

AHAHAHA omg this is priceless

taking bets on how long it takes you two to end up fuckin

**PERIDOT IS COOL**

LAPIS DO YOU ACCEPT BITCOIN?

**none of your bismuth**

y'know what? fuck it, i'm gonna support you, ame.

i get it. girls are confusing.

**Guitar Dad!**

...i mean, i've never really found asking someone out to be MORE difficult than planning a road trip?

**pussy destroyer**

greg were a couple of massive dykes do u rly expect either of us 2 say shit

plus she probly doesnt even like me that way so ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**none of your bismuth**

uh, you sure about that?

**pussy destroyer**

absolutely fuckin positive 

dont rly get gay 4 amethyst vibes from her u kno

or from anyone tbh

**lapissed**

amethyst you're really here going “tfw no gf” huh

**pussy destroyer**

says the bitch whose dating jasper again lmao

**lapissed**

stfu.

i'll shut up about your weird thing for pearl if you agree to stop bringing up my relationship.

**pussy destroyer**

no

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, my own personal music taste is exactly as baffling as my fanfics suggest


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drunken shenanigans, holiday flashbacks, and a shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY I AM ALIVE.
> 
> I had initially written a decent buffer for this fic, but I was really unhappy with like 99% of it, so here I am, rewriting a bunch of shit. :’) This one is admittedly a little disconnected, but I like it more than what I previously had, at least!

You're not sure what time it is. You could check, if you felt like it--there's a clock on the nightstand, and even if there weren't, you could just look at your phone. But the truth is, you don't care. 

You haven't felt this genuinely  _ good  _ in so, so long. 

Your work on Amethyst’s hair-- _ God _ , her  _ hair _ , long and thick and soft, currently dyed a pale, vaguely grayish lilac--is complete, a single thick, slightly messy braid in the middle. Nothing too complicated; even if you were sober, and you are very much  _ not _ , you've got next to no experience with this. 

You've always preferred your own hair short--you don't think you've ever had it much past your chin in your life, and you've been quite happy with your current pixie cut. It's just more practical for so many things. Dancing. Lab work. Most things you get genuine enjoyment out of, really. 

But you've always had a thing for long hair on other women, and Amethyst is--

_ No.  _

_ We are not going down this road.  _

_ Don't ruin this.  _

You sigh heavily. Amethyst takes notice, and turns to look at you.

“You okay?”

“Uh. Yeah.” 

“Cool.”  _ Whew. _

She gets up off the bed--a bit wobbly, but clearly more coordinated than you’re feeling. There's a mirror on the wall, next to the TV, and she examines herself in it, looking thoughtful. 

“Huh. I like it,” she finally says. 

You breathe a sigh of relief. She likes it. Good. That was definitely your end goal, absolutely, and you were  _ not  _ just desperate to touch her. Absolutely not. Why would you even think that? It's silly. 

And yet.

You reach over to the nightstand wedged between the two beds and grab your phone, hoping to think about literally anything other than all that. It's a little past 1 AM, which shocks you just a bit--it certainly doesn't  _ feel  _ like that much time has passed since you arrived and began drinking. More pressingly, though, you notice that you have a number of unread texts. A handful from your sisters, and a long stream apiece from both your parents.

You groan. You should've known they'd keep bugging you, no matter how far away you got. 

Amethyst flops back down next to you, sneaking a look at your phone screen. “Family shit?” she asks.

“Yeah,” you reply. Reductive, yes, but it's definitely one source of stress, and you'd rather focus on that instead of the massive lesbian elephant in the room, thank you very much.

You frown as you open the app. Your parents are making no secret of how much they disapprove of your decision, on just about every level. You know, of course, that they wouldn't have been happy with you running off under  _ any  _ circumstances, but the fact that it's with  _ Amethyst  _ seems to be a particular affront to their sensibilities, judging by the brief glances you take at their streams of texts. You tab out of each respective exchange without bothering to read their messages in any depth, much less respond. 

You think about it for a moment, and put your phone down. Your sisters can wait until morning.

“What'd they say?” Amethyst asks.

“The usual, more or less,” you reply, rolling your eyes. 

“Ah, yeah. They think I'm going to assimilate you into the cult of the lesbians or some shit.” She chuckles. “Since you're so  _ obviously  _ straight.” The sarcasm drips heavily from her voice, and you can't help but laugh.

“They seriously thought I had the same 'study buddy’ for all of high school.”

“Rose?”

You barely flinch at the name, and were you a bit more clear-headed, you might be proud of yourself. “Yeah.”

“So they just bought that you were ‘studying’ with someone who had already graduated and never actually had classes with you?”

You smirk, glancing over at Amethyst. “Never underestimate the power of denial.” Not that either of you are in denial about anything. At least,  _ you're  _ certainly not. And why would she be? 

She giggles at that. “ _ Incredible. _ ” She rolls over, swinging her legs off the edge of the bed and standing, nearly falling over on her way over to her own bed. 

“Okay, this is fun, but I think I’m gonna catch some shut-eye,” Amethyst announces. “Night, P.”

“Need me to turn the light off?” you ask.

“Dude, you  _ know  _ I can sleep through anything. I’m fine either way.”

You nod. “I think I’ll leave it on until I go to bed, then. Sleep well.”

“Thanks.” 

(She doesn’t say anything about  _ you _ sleeping. She knows better than to expect anything there by now.)

—

_ You paced around the dorm room, trying to calm your nerves and failing miserably. Occasionally, you’d glance at your phone; mostly, you just stared at the floor.  _

_ The carpet was disgusting. You’d have to vacuum at some point, and maybe steam it, if possible. You’d probably have started on it right then, had you been able—it would’ve been an excellent distraction—but the cheap little vacuum you’d insisted on bringing with you upon beginning your freshman year had broken a few weeks prior, so you’d have to borrow one, and there weren’t many other people staying on campus over break, and— _

_ You jumped when your phone finally rang. With a deep breath, you steeled yourself and picked up. _

_ “Hello, this is Pearl speaking.” _

_ “Hi!” Oh no. It was Val. Of  _ course  _ your parents put her up to being the one to talk to you—you were always closer to her than the twins, whether because of relative age proximity or by sheer virtue of sharing a bedroom with her for most of your respective lives, you couldn’t say. You cringed; if Amethyst’s chuckle from her spot on the top bunk was any indication, your reaction was all too visible. It only added to your frustration. _

_ “Uh. Hi, Val.” You forced a smile—not that she could see. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” _

_ “You’re coming home for Christmas, right?” _

_ Despite your better efforts, you sighed, quite heavily. “Sorry, but no. I made plans already.” That was a complete and utter lie, but you figured it was easier, not to mention kinder to the family members you actually cared about, than the truth.  _

_ You  _ could’ve _ gone home, absolutely. You wouldn’t be missing anything on campus. But you didn’t  _ want _ to.  _

_ “Are you sure?” _

_ “ _ Yes _ , Val. I’m sure. Completely positive.” _

_ “But what about your presents?” _

_ You bit your tongue. You wanted to point out that your parents never paid attention to what any of you had asked for, needed, or in any way desired, and that as such you didn’t care, but… _

_ “Can’t you just ship them here? You have my mailing address.” _

_ “I guess. It’s just not the same. We all really miss you!” _

_ “I’m sure  _ you  _ do,” you admitted. “I have to get some cleaning done, so I’m going to hang up. Tell the twins I said hi, okay?” _

_ “Alright. Love ya, Pearl.” _

_ “Love you too.” You hung up, and collapsed onto the air mattress, this close to screaming. _

_ “How’d it go?” Amethyst asked, climbing down from her bunk.  _

_ “Well, they know now, at least.” You set your phone down on Garnet’s bunk, currently vacant.  _

_ Amethyst was the only other person you knew who had opted to stay on campus over Christmas. She’d explained it as a desire to get away from Jasper for a few weeks, which, in fairness, struck you as an extremely solid reason. Selfishly, though, you were happy  _ someone  _ was there, her own reasons be damned. _

_ After all,  _ Rose _ couldn’t be there. The thought of being alone terrified you more than ever now. Some part of you, some awful nagging voice in the back of your mind, said that it would be easier to just…give up.  _

_ The temptation to give in was stronger than you were. You knew that. But the thought of Amethyst finding you like that? Of her having to attend another friend’s funeral? That was simply unacceptable.  _

_ (You didn’t  _ say  _ that, of course. She’d worry, and when she worried, she tended to make you feel even worse. Not intentionally, but that didn’t mean it  _ helped. _ ) _

_ You were snapped out of your self-pity by Amethyst asking you something. _

_ “Sorry,” you replied, “could you repeat that? I was spacing out.” _

_ “Just wanted to know if you wanted to do something for Christmas.” _

_ “...Yes. I think I do.” _

—

You don’t recall going to bed, but apparently you did at some point, and through some miracle you wake up feeling shockingly alright. A bit of a headache, yes, but it’s not the worst hangover you’ve suffered by a long shot, and you’re fairly certain you packed ibuprofen. 

Blinking, you glance over at the other bed. Amethyst is still asleep, which is unsurprising. She’s cute like this, all sprawled out under the covers, hair falling in front of her face,  _ good lord, Pearl, stop staring-- _

You sit bolt upright, suddenly very,  _ very  _ awake.

The sun peeks out from behind the edges of the curtains. A look at your phone tells you that it’s 7:20 AM. 

You rummage through your suitcase, grabbing your toiletries and an outfit for the day—and, in all honesty, feeling rather disgusted with yourself for passing out in your clothes. You need a shower. 

The bathroom, you discover, is quite clean, but a bit on the small side. You grimace slightly at the angle of the shower head; the whole setup is clearly designed for someone significantly shorter than you, which you think a bit strange, considering that 5’10” isn’t  _ freakishly _ tall, you don’t think. Still, it’ll do as far as getting clean goes, which is your key concern here.

The water pressure is decent, and it heats up relatively quickly, so you hop in shortly after undressing. There’s just something so  _ nice _ about a hot shower, especially when you feel so grimy. So  _ unclean. _

You scrub yourself down, cursing yourself a bit for not bringing a pouf—you’re perfectly capable of getting clean without one, of course, but it would be a bit easier if you  _ did  _ have one. 

_ Mental note: pick one up. They’re not expensive, and I could’ve sworn I saw a drugstore just down the road from here… _

Washing your hair proves trickier. The shower angle forces you to put your head at an incredibly awkward angle to wet it, and you’re fairly sure you’ll be contending with a stiff neck later. Still, you’ll take it over feeling so  _ grimy  _ any day. There’s something that just  _ bothers _ you, on a deep, visceral level, about being unwashed, and you’re forced to contend with it every morning.

You know what that something  _ is _ , of course. You just wish you didn’t still  _ care _ so much.

\---

_ Christmas Eve was, to put it lightly, _ difficult _. _

_ Some days were easier than others. You’d come to realize this fairly quickly over the past four months. You couldn’t say you’d had any  _ good  _ days since everything had gone to hell, not really, but...some were at least vaguely tolerable.  _

_ This was not one of them. _

_ Rose had always loved the holidays. She was always looking for an excuse to celebrate, to throw parties and give out gifts and just have  _ fun.  _ It wasn’t just Christmas—she was no less excited for birthdays, or New Years, or Valentine’s Day, or, really, anything of the sort. And this was the first holiday she wouldn’t be there for. _

_ You glanced over at Amethyst, going about her morning routine. She was talking, rambling about something or other, but you couldn’t process the actual  _ words _. You couldn’t think at  _ all _.  _

_ You buried your face into your pillow. Even with Amethyst here, you felt so alone. _

_ The air mattress shifted suddenly. “Are you listening?” _

_ “No,” you admitted, voice muffled.  _

_ Amethyst sighed. “We were gonna go ice skating today, remember?” _

_ Oh. Fuck. You were. You’d forgotten entirely.  _

_ “I don’t want to.” _

_ She paused. You rolled over onto your side, scrutinizing her face—lips pursed, brow furrowed. “I know. I don’t really want to either.” _

_ “What?” _

_ “Ugh. I’m just...I’m not up to much either. I wanted to cheer you up, but...fuck, I can’t even cheer myself up. It’s just not  _ fair _. None of this is fucking fair.” _

_ You were dumbstruck. She’d seemed so blasé about her own grief, infuriatingly so, really. But...it made sense. It made  _ perfect  _ sense, the more you thought about it, that she’d try to push it all down. She’d always done that when things got tough. Fuck. You’d been wallowing in your own despair so deeply that you couldn’t see anything else.  _

_ You were a  _ horrible  _ friend, and you knew it. _

_ The tears began to fall, then, hot and wet down your cheeks. You couldn’t have stopped them if you tried. “I’m sorry,” you choked out. _

_ Amethyst stared at you, looking a bit horrified. “Dude, no. Don’t be. We’re—we’re all feeling like shit right now, but that’s not  _ your  _ fault. It’s not like—like you did anything to cause it.” _

_ “If I’d been a better girlfriend, she wouldn’t have had to start seeing him.” _

_ “That’s not true. You  _ know  _ that’s not true. Rose was…”  _

_ Amethyst trailed off. That was fine by you. You didn’t want her to finish that sentence.  _

_ (You couldn’t accept  _ her _ as anything other than perfect.) _

_ For a long, painful moment, the room went silent, save for the hum of the ancient heater and your persistent sobs. _

_ “Hey, do you, like...need a hug?” _

_ “I might.” _

_ She pulled you up from your prone position and held you close, and after a moment, you hugged her back.  _

_ It wasn’t going to fix your situation. It wasn’t going to bring Rose back to life. But it was something, at least.  _

_ Amethyst pulled away, and stood, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her sweatshirt. And she smiled a forced, wet-eyed smile.  _

_ “Y’know,” she commented, “you could  _ really  _ use a shower.” _

_ She wasn’t wrong, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to be upset with her.  _

—

You step out of the bathroom, feeling significantly better already—save for the slight crick in your neck, as you’d anticipated. Amethyst is standing in front of the sink, brushing her teeth.

“Good morning,” you say.

Amethyst spits into the sink. “Yo,” she replies, waving with her free hand. Her hair is still braided. 

“You kept the braid in.”

“Didn’t see any reason not to. Gonna have to take it out to wash it, though.”

“Ah. Yeah.”

She’s blushing, you think. Or maybe it’s just the light. Yeah. It’s definitely just the light. Definitely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these idiots i swear to god

**Author's Note:**

> this can only go well


End file.
